I rescued Bo a few years ago. Recently, I inherited him back, so to speak. I integrated him with my dogs and he did real well. But he started peeing on all the dog beds. So as a compromise, I bought this cage for him so he can stay in the main part of the house where all the action is going on. During the evening he goes back into his spacious apartment, attached to my home, so he can stretch and run around.

In the morning when I open the door to his apartment, he comes running in and straight into the cage. Not being a cat person, I assume he likes this arrangement.

he is beautiful!! he was probably marking the beds for his own, cats are notorious for that.. once you have a cat, they own you.. i had one for 18 years. she was a black and white too..

do you give him free roam when you are home? he could have also been stressed moving back with you, which could also explain the marking of the dogs beds.. did you try to get him his own cat beds maybe that will work?

"Bo's apartment" as we now call it, is attached to my home. So I let him roam the entire floorplan. He only peed in a room I have set aside for the dogs called the "dog den". With the advice from cat people, I had the vet check for UTI. Nothing.

He was the assertive one meeting the dogs, actually. He saw them for 4 years through his apt. windows, so I guess he felt rather comfortable with them in person.

you will never get it, i didnt for 18 years.. cats are their own being.. highly independent, and when they come into your house its no longer your house its THEIR house.... you dont own it or anything in it anymore... when my grandma came to live with us my cat got royally pissed... the entire 2 years grandma was with us she peed everywhere but the litter box.... i even had a cat psychatrist come in. ( i was young and stupid) the ony thing that she said was real was my cat was pissed that my grandma was there... once my grandma passed away, my cat was fine.... they have a mind of their own, and do what they want..

My cat used to pee in the food/water dishes of any visiting dogs. She also, upon first meeting with Wally, ran across the room and latched herself onto his face. The whole time we were living with my parents she refused to use the litter box even though the two of them lived on seperate floors. But now she only has "accidents" when Wally and I go for a visit and the day or two following. Cats are nasty little bastards . . . I love them